


Just Keep Shopping

by thankyouforexisting



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU-Murder Family, AU-They don't know he's a cannibal, Cannibal Puns, F/F, M/M, REALLY bad cannibal puns, Suit Shop, i dont even know, outsider pov, this is really weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 03:06:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4987726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thankyouforexisting/pseuds/thankyouforexisting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dana doesn’t say anything. Her lady boner for Alana must be pretty obvious. She clears her throat, “So, apart from buying suits, what is it that you do?”<br/>He smirks, and takes another sip of the foul liquid inside the  ceramic cup, “I’m a psychologist, though I dabble in cooking from time to time.”<br/>Dana’s intrigued. She can, maybe, master a fried egg, “Really? What do you cook?”<br/>His grin widens, “Meat, mostly.”// Dana works at a suit shop. Hannibal is a client. There is a wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Keep Shopping

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea  
> Dedicated to Pau. You did this to me. I hate you.  
> (No I don't)

_Here we go again_   
_We're sick like animals_   
_We play pretend_   
_You're just_   
_A cannibal_   
_And I'm afraid_   
_I won't get out alive_   
_No, I won't sleep tonight_

_-_ "Animals", Neon Trees

* * *

He comes in on a normal Monday, smiling, eyes lighting up.

“He’s so fucking hot,” whispers Claire, but Claire likes Benergette Culimcle, so what does she even know.

Dana ignores her, and lets her face do the “I’m taking care of a customer and I’m totally not psychotic” smile, “Hey! Welcome to Suits R Us, what do you need?”

The man, who’s actually dressed in a perfectly acceptable, tailored charcoal suit, leans his head down a little, as if amused, and his voice has an accent she can’t quite identify, “Why, a suit, of course, miss…?”

“Lettinger,” she provides, and hopes he doesn’t find her drunk pics on Facebook, “What type of suit are you looking for? Formal, very formal, my rich sister’s wedding?”

The man chuckles, eyes crinkling, “Everyday wear, Miss Lettinger. I’m sure whatever you’ll find will be appropriate. I get the feeling you have good taste.”

Claire mimics fanning herself from behind the client. Dana sticks out her tongue when he turns around, and hopes her supervisor didn’t see her do that.

…

The next time Claire’s crush comes to the shop, there’s another guy with him.

He’s a tall, imposing black man who has a tendency to raise his eyebrows and sigh almost simultaneously.

“Hannibal,” he begins, and seriously, what the fuck kind of name is that? It’s like calling your kid Legolas or something, “We don’t have time for _suit_ _shopping_. There’s some details I’d like to –“

“Relax, Jack,”  Hannibal reassures him, coming to stand directly in front of Dana, smiling at her almost fondly, “There’s always time for Miss Lettinger’s wonderful advice.”

Okay, Dana tells herself, there’s nothing creepy about remembering a shop girl’s name.

 _Not even if he came in a week ago?_ Dana’s brain points out.

Shut it, she orders, and puts on the smiles, “Thank you, sir. Of course I’d be delighted to help you both.”

‘Jack’ raises his eyebrows and sighs, then says, “You have ten minutes. Any more and I’ll tell Will.”

Hannibal looks oddly panicked at that, “You _wouldn’t_.”

Jack just raises his eyebrows again, and Claire’s lover looks betrayed.

“Let’s go on, Miss Lettinger. Maybe your co-worker could lend Mr. Crawford a hand?”

Dana looks over to where Claire is taking a selfie with her iPhone, smirks, and says sweetly, “Of course, sir.”

Hannibal’s a little more talkative this time. While Dana hands him jacket after jacket, and tells Jeffrey to take his measurements, he smiles at her, “My friend apparently doesn’t think clothing oneself is important.”

“Clothing is of utmost importance, sir,” Dana dutifully says, guessing that’s the right  answer.

Hannibal smirks like he knows that Dana’s wardrobe consists mostly of jeans and band t-shirts. Oh god, maybe he did find her on Facebook?

“Hannibal, it’s been ten mintues!” Jack calls out from the other changing room.

“So sorry, Jack, I can’t quite make out what you’re saying!”

“I’m dialing Will’s number!”

“I’ll be out in a second.”

…

The third time Hannibal comes to  the shop, there’s a woman with him.

She’s quite pretty, one would even say gorgeous, and Dana well. She only drools a little.

“Miss Lettinger,” Hannibal looks pleased at seeing her, like they’re friends or something. Claire is still mad at her that her crush ignores her.

The woman next to him rolls her eyes, “Hannibal, you’re useless. Sorry, could you by any chance find him a suit good enough for his own engagement party?”

Dana tries to not to let her surprise show, and smiles maybe a little too warmly at Hannibal’s bride-to-be, “Congratulations, sir. What color?”

Hannibal dismisses the woman’s suggestion of “black, like your soul”, and instead chooses a more neutral ash color. Dana tries not to ravish the woman.

While Hannibal is inside with Jeffrey, she clears her throat, “So, when’s the wedding?”

The woman looks up for a second, like remembering something, “In two months. I think.”

“So soon?” Rich people usually plan their wedding for _years_ , “Quite eager, then?”

The woman laughs, eyes twinkling, lips curling, “I suppose you could say that. Yes, Hannibal’s quite excited.”

 _But not you? Hmm, maybe I can excite you with a good shag?_ , “Ah well, he’s a very pleasant client.”

The woman snorts, “He’s a, uh, picky man. I’m surprised you’ve caught his interest.”

Dana flushes, “Ma’am, I would never –“

 _But if_ you _wanted, then_ …

She laughs, “Oh god, no! I wasn’t insinuating –No, Hannibal is loyal to a fault, that’s true.”

“Thank you for the compliment, Alana,” smiles Hannibal, coming out of the measuring room, “Though I’m afraid I can’t quite return it. No one is loyal to a fault.”

‘Alana’ grins, “Except Will.”

“Except Will,” Hannibal allows.

Dana groans internally. Stupid inside jokes.

“Well,  I’m ready now, Miss Lettinger,” her client smiles at her, “Thank you for your time.”

…

The fourth time, it’s not even at the shop.

Dana’s blasting Panic! at the disco through her earphones, moving her head to the rhythm, when she bumps into someone.

“Sorry!” she says automatically, before raising her eyes and seeing Hannibal smiling fondly at her.

“Miss Lettinger,” his teeth are strangely sharp, “Would you like a coffee?”

Dana wants to say something, but she’s a  very bad liar, and she hasn’t got anywhere to be, so she just slumps and offers, “Sure?”

Hannibal chuckles, “Is that a positive affirmation, Miss Lettinger?”

“It is?”

He chuckles again.

They go, unsurprisingly, to an unknown, hipster-looking expensive café where Hannibal’s suit and demeanor fit right in. Dana, meanwhile, sticks out like a sore thumb.

“Sooo…” she searches for a conversation topic, “How’s the wedding preparation going, sir?”

Hannibal doesn’t move for a second, pale eyes looking at her steadily, “Why do you insist on calling me sir, Miss Lettinger?”

She bristles, “Why do you insist on calling me Miss Lettinger?”

Hannibal smiles, “Touché. The wedding’s going splendidly. We have a daughter, you see, who’s taking care of the practical parts. She’s truly a wonder.”

Dana rolls her eyes, “Sure.  I bet it’s easy planning a wedding without actually preparing any of the practical bits.”

Hannibal laughs, picking up his huge cup of coffee, “It is. Though Alana’s been helping me more than I thought she would.”

Dana doesn’t say anything. Her lady boner for Alana must be pretty obvious. She clears her throat, “So, apart from buying suits, what is it that you do?”

He smirks, and takes another sip of the foul liquid inside the  ceramic cup, “I’m a psychologist, though I dabble in cooking from time to time.”

Dana’s intrigued. She can, maybe, master a fried egg, “Really? What do you cook?”

His grin widens, “Meat, mostly.”

…

Dana’s hanging up some shirts when a short red-headed woman stops in front of her, and doesn’t do anything but stare at her for a while.

“Um, do you need something, ma’am?” she says after a few minutes, awkward.

The woman cocks her head, examining her, “You’ve met Hannibal Lecter, yes?”

She clears her throat, uncomfortable, “I’m afraid I can’t  discuss my clients with you, ma’am,”

The short woman raises an eyebrows, surprisingly similarly to Hannibal’s friend Jack, “Really.”

It’s not a question.

“Really,” Dana insists.

She smiles creepily, hands her a card, and leaves, but not without turning around and winking at her, “Tell me once he invites you to a dinner party.”

Frowning, Dana looks at the card.

_Freddie Lounds_

_JOURNALIST_

_Specialist in criminal investigations_

…

The next time, she finally meets the mysterious Will.

At first it’s just a man walking up to her, wearing slightly cheaper clothes than the rest of her usual clientele, curls like the ones Claire would die for, who looks slightly like a puppy.

He clears his throat, “Sorry if this is really strange, but is a man named Hannibal Lecter here?”

Dana frowns, confused, “Erm, not that I know of.”

“Fuck,” the man mutters under his breath, “He’s hiding again.”

Dana is just bewildered at this point, “Sir?”

He rubs his neck, “He doesn’t want me to find what he bought, so he’s hiding. Please tell him Will Graham’s looking for him if he _does_ come.”

She just nods, feeling a bit out of it.

A few minutes later, Hannibal marches in, making sure nobody except Claire and Dana is there before sneakily hiding behind a row of suits. Dana isn’t sure she isn’t hallucinating.

“Sir?” she frowns, “Um, Will Graham told me he was looking for you.”

Hannibal _pales_ , and Dana’s a little worried, “I can just call security, if you wish, sir.”

The client smiles at that, though not very brightly, “No need, Miss Lettinger. I’m never in any danger from Will. But I’m afraid it’s time to ‘face the music’ as they say.”

Dana is sure he’s from the 19th century. Truly.

“Okay, sir,” she answers cautiously.

Hannibal’s eyes twinkle.

…

He keeps showing up everywhere.

Hannibal’s at the florist’s when she’s trying to get mom some birthday roses, he’s at the queue for the groceries, he’s there even when she’s just sitting on a bench, whistling under her breath.

He always smiles, and his face gets brighter anytime he mentions the wedding or his daughter. Though Hannibal had said the girl was handling the wedding, she couldn’t be older than ten, the way he talked about her. She was sweet and kind and wonderful and _incredibly_ smart, Miss Lettinger, so Dana is expecting a kid when one day Hannibal walks in, and says “This is Abigail, Miss Lettinger.”

Instead, she sees her sex dream on legs, and falters a bit, “Oh?”

The hottest chick ever smirks, glancing at her dad, “I don’t think she’s ready to meet the entire family, dad. You’ve already introduced him to Alana and Will.”

“And Jack,” Hannibal adds, smiling.

Dana swallows hard, blushing, and says, “What can I help you with, sir?”

“Abigail here,” he talks like only parents do, “Can’t survive in a dress, and she wants the most obnoxiously colored suit you have here.”

Dana remembers Jeannette’s not here today, and Claire doesn’t know how to take measurements. _Breathe in, breathe out_.

Abigail just smiles ruefully, “What can I say, I’m a rebel.”

_Jesus fucking Christ._

“Sure,” she says lightly, not getting enough oxygen to her brain, “Follow me.”

She manages not to grope Abigail.

(Too much).

…

The next time after that, Hannibal gives her an invitation to the wedding, and she’s thanking him, oddly touched, thinking _There’s no way in hell I’m going_ , when she actually reads it.

_You are cordially invited_

_To the union between_

_Dr. Hannibal Lecter and Mr. Will Graham_

Wait. Will is the _fiancé_?

Holy fucking shit.

And then Hannibal says, “Abigail has mentioned she’d like you to come,” and there’s no way in hell she’s missing it now.

…

“Dana,” Will Graham says the second he enters the shop, “Remember that one time I begged you to tell my husband not to hide? Well, I need a hiding spot.”

He’s holding a _puppy_.

“Of course, sir,” Dana grins, “I’ll be more than happy to provide.”

He lets her pet the puppy. It’s bliss.

Claire gives him the bedroom eyes, but Will hides in the changing room while Dana scans the shopping centre. After a few minutes, Hannibal marches in, looking annoyed.

“Is my future husband here?”

“No, sir,” she says loyally, “I haven’t seen Mr. Graham in some time.”

Hannibal narrows his eyes, looking strangely like a snake, “You’re sure?”

“Positive, sir.”

Her client doesn’t look convinced, “So, if I look in the changing rooms, he won’t be there holding a dog?”

“Erm, not at all, sir.”

The puppy barks.

Hannibal _smirks_.

Will groans, “Why is the world so horrible.”

…

Dana goes to the wedding.

All of the people she’s met are there, and Jack gives her an inquiring look until Will explains who the fuck she is, which is understandable.

Abigail gives her another type of look entirely. The kind that makes her toes curl and her mouth go dry. Shit.

The couple is very clearly besotted, if the way they look at each other adoringly is any sign. Now that she knows the love is there, she marvels at how she didn’t see it before: they’re _adorable_. Hannibal cries when he hears Will’s vows, even if they sound a little too culinary for her taste.

Alana shouts, “Bring the dogs in!” and two fucking billion dogs all happily start running, coming out from literally _nowhere_ , jumping at the couple’s feet to get their attention, and Dana can recognize the puppy cheerfully falling down trying to keep up with the older dogs.

No wonder Hannibal was pissed, she thinks, going to the toilet, they’re a freaking shelter.

And then she’s got Abigail’s tongue down her throat, only pausing for the girl to whisper, “I want to eat you whole” darkly, and she’s not really thinking at all.

…

“Abigail! You can’t eat Miss Lettinger! She’s better than your old boyfriend!”

“That’s not _fair_! _You_ were allowed to try to eat dad like, fifty times.”

“Our courtship wasn’t exactly conventional, you must understand.”

Will snorts, "Just eat the window cleaner, you two."

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated! :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Just Keep Shopping by thankyouforexisting [podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11490678) by [illutu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/illutu/pseuds/illutu), [Rhea314 (Rhea)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhea/pseuds/Rhea314)




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